


Two Houses United (or maybe three because Grace is NOT a Slytherin)

by gala_apples



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Cosplay, F/F, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:19:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liv spends her weekends cosplaying in the park because it's one of the few things that make her feel like a good person. Turns out she's not the only person that goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Houses United (or maybe three because Grace is NOT a Slytherin)

Liv isn’t always Liv, the girl whose older sister is in jail, younger sister is creepily mature, and mother is insane. Sometimes she’s Liv, accomplished Gryffindor -but only just, the Sorting Hat considered Ravenclaw too- and sixth year at Hogwarts with OWLs in nine subjects. Her younger sister is too young to attend, her older sister is a squib and at Hogwarts it’s trendy to have a crazy parent. Look at Ron Weasley or Luna Lovegood or Blaise Zabini. Liv likes herself a lot more when she’s Liv the Gryffindor, resplendent in a purple dress robe.

If there’s one thing wrong with wizard life as dictated by Garden Grove Park’s weekly Harry Potter LARPing, it’s that the concession stand butterbeer is far too buttery and not near enough beery. For god sakes, she’s sixteen! She should be able to get a beer. She _likes_ beer. Apart from the cosplay, drinking is the only thing that makes the petty things Liv’s life is comprised of less irritating. 

It’s a big city, and the event isn’t exactly invitation only. Not everyone shows up every weekend. Some people only come the once, fuck knows what their problem is. But there are people like her, that need this. You get the Malfoy groupies, the five or six bleach blondes that spend half the time practicing their sneer. And the Weasley groupies too, always the one Molly with granny square knitted sleeves. There’s a Sirius that comes who has about a dozen different outfits for Sirius throughout the series. Liv recognises a lot of the faces and personas here today. Two of whom -classic Slytherin uniforms, both- aren’t regulars. They’re from school. Grace Blood and Mini McGuinness don’t seem like the type to like LARPing, but the same would be said of her, probably.

Liv knows Grace a little. She doesn’t have the kind of personality needed for Slytherin. She’s ambitious, sure, but not the kind of ambitious that makes you climb up a mountain created by other people, strong yet stylish heels crushing the weak beneath you. She’s a Huff for sure. Her skills are just the products of following the Hufflepuff motto of hard work. Mini, on the other hand, deserves the green and silver tie. Liv edges a little closer to hear what they’re arguing about.

"You're wrong," said Mini loudly, thrusting a finger under Grace's nose. "The Goblin Rebellions were a politically-charged series of wars that had been accumulating over time--"

"They were a bunch of little leathery-looking blokes getting their trousers in a knot," Grace said carelessly, making Mini bristle.

"No, no, that's all wrong, look, you didn't even know alohomora from alihotsy before you met me, Blood, so take my word for it, there were reasons for those rebellions."

"All seven hundred and thirteen of them?"

"Well, maybe the rebellion of 1632 was a bit--"

"So you admit that they were rubbish?"

They’re both really hot. They’re in movie uniform, not the black choral robes JKR intended, but Liv can forgive it considering she can see so much of Mini’s thigh. Sooner or later though they’re going to notice she’s staring. Better to approach the picnic table/a booth in Hogsmeade now. Maybe she’ll even get a kiss out of it. Her dykish tendencies don’t matter when the wizarding world runs on a bisexual norm. Or at least that’s her headcanon.

"I've seen you before," Grace says, ignoring Mini's ranting as she peers up at Liv. "Gryffindor. Starts with an L. Or an S? Do you want to sit?"

Liv does, then introduces herself with a tilt of her glass bottle. Mini and Grace tilt theirs back. She sucks on the foam of her butterbeer, mourning the lack of flavour. Sure beer tasted like piss when it hit your tongue, but it was better than something so bland. If only Fred and George were around. She could buy some contraband off them.

A few minutes into the discussion on the pros and cons of goblins, Liv blinks as a thought occurs to her. Not really speaking to anyone, just fleshing out the idea, she says "you think I could pay some old wizard to buy me a mead? Yeah, I bet someone would. Fuck, it's been ages. Spent the fucking summer break with Lavender, who, trust me, you’d wish you were drunk around. Gotta go, been nice talking."

She makes to slide out of the booth, when she feels a hand on her arm. "What? You want one too?"

"Yeah," Grace says breathlessly, licking her lips and looking rather childish. It’s okay though. It’s cute. Or maybe it’s flirting. Liv will also accept flirting.

"I'll come too," Mini says suddenly, standing up.

There isn't a chance she can get anything good from anyone at The Three Broomsticks (the concession stand, just beside the small collection of craft tables that represented Diagon Alley). The place is run by well meaning adults. Knockturn Alley though, that might work.

Liv approaches a cute bloke on the other side of the park. The dealer side of the park. Turns out he has about six kinds of drugs, but no alcohol. Liv isn’t sure she wants to cross that line. She hasn’t taken anything illegal before, only things she’s not allowed to have _yet_. Instead of buying anything she goes back to the LARPing area and makes a beeline for Alice. It’s Liv’s last possibility. Alice is one of the few representatives of nasty dark characters. She doesn’t dress as a Death Eater, but her robe has blood smears and the apron over it is black with grime. She sells gross bits of things; ears and paws and fingers. If anyone has a flask, it’s her.

“Alice, do you have any alcohol?"

She responds with an admonishing tone, "No, never Liv. And you shouldn't be drinking either, it's bad for you. Oh, and don't forget to tell your friends I have specials on infant toes every Thursday."

“Look Liv, I have alcohol at my house. We can just go.”

Liv glances around the park. She waits all week to have this on Saturday. “I’m kind of attached to this.”

“We can wear the robes at my house. It’s not like anyone will care.”

Liv cares, but she gets that Mini means it in a helpful way.

Two bottles of wine later, Liv’s head is swimming. She can’t even articulate her question about how Mini’s made her wand. It’s definitely made, Liv’s seen all the official merch ones. 

“Maximus lubricus!” Mini giggles as she twirls her wand.

“What’s that?”

“A spell to get you wet. I always get turned on when I drink. Not that I do anything. Still a virgin. Mustn't do anything with boys. It’s a reward for perfect behaviour. I’m not my mum.”

If Liv wasn’t drunk she wouldn’t answer her. But if she wasn’t drunk she wouldn’t be here. “Girls count?”

“What?”

“Girls. They’re not gonna rip your hymen, so if that’s virginity-”

“Are you offering, Olivia?”

If anything, Mini’s _that’s ridiculous_ tone spurs Liv on. “Are you interested in taking an offer?”

Grace, silent and nearly forgotten, speaks up. “Your spell worked on me, Mini. I’m really wet. Good thing we’re not in the common room, so I can do this.” Grace spreads her legs until she’s nearly straddling the chair, then pushes her hand between her legs. With the angle Liv can’t actually see if she’s touching herself, but she thinks it’s fair to assume.

It takes Liv less than ten seconds to break. It’s not her fault. She can practically _hear_ the slickness. She wants it for her own. She wants to be a part of that noise. She throws herself off the chair, then kneewalks to Grace. Grace’s legs are already spread, a finger already in her cunt. It’s hardly anything to make room for her face. It’s the first girl Liv’s eaten out, and if it wasn’t for the alcohol she might be a bit panicky about it, but as it is she’s just enjoying the taste.

The situation gets even better a minute later. Mini, apparently done with her lesbian freakout, has crawled up behind her. Mini says “divestus panties,” and taps on Liv’s bum with her wand tip. The spell obviously works, Liv’s underwear is down to her knees a minute later.

Seriously, an afternoon spent tipsy with two other lesbian Hogwarts attendees? Liv can’t think of a better afternoon for all the world.


End file.
